


In The Cards

by The_Shadow



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tarot, Young Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-16 02:30:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21263627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Shadow/pseuds/The_Shadow
Summary: Pansy has a new business venture and ropes Harry into helping her. But is a little gold the only thing she's after?





	1. The Trial

Harry walked through the castle grounds after a failed attempt to visit Hagrid, who was apparently not back from whatever mission Dumbledore had sent him on. It was Sunday before term and the students were enjoying their last bit of freedom in the unseasonably warm weather. Not in a real hurry to get back to Gryffindor Tower after being accused of lying by half of his housemates, Harry took a winding, leisurely path around the lake as he went along his way.

“Oi, Potter!”

He looked over to see Pansy Parkinson sitting on a mat underneath a tree waving at him.

And it had been such a good day.

“What do you want, Parkinson?”

“I need a favor. Come here.”

Harry thought that the day he did a favor for a Slytherin would be the day Snape proposed to Lupin, but he found himself walking over anyway. What could it hurt, he thought. Usually when she and Draco were up to something, they didn’t tell him first.

On her large, colorful mat sat deck of cards. They were taller and thinner that a normal deck and there seemed to be more cards than usual.

“What do you want?” He repeated.

“Sit down,” she said, ignoring the question. “Let’s talk.”

“No.”

“Fine then, I’ll stand.” Getting up, she said, “Trewlaney told us last year that if we wanted to take N.E.W.T. level divination we had to do a special project in 5th year. Do you remember?”

He didn’t. He barely paid attention in divination. He was too busy trying to come up with lies for his homework.

“I didn’t think so. Well, this is mine. I’m doing Tarot readings this year. I’m going to follow up on my readings and write an essay about what I got right and wrong. And I want you,” here she pointed at him, “to be one of my clients. Free of charge, of course.”

‘Cause _that_ had been what he’d been worrying about.

“I figure having your name in my report couldn’t hurt. Especially if I predict your death.” She picked up the top card of her deck and waved it. On it was the word Death a skeletal figure holding a scythe and with snakes coming out of it’s mouth. It looked disturbingly like the Dark Mark. Harry raised is eyebrow, wondering if she had had it on top waiting for him. Pansy looked at it and cringed.

“Sorry.” For once, she actually sounded like she meant it.

“But why should I help you, of all people?”

“Because it’ll help you too. You know how...interesting, shall we say, your life gets every year. Wouldn’t you like to know what’s coming your way?”

“And playing cards with you will help. Tell me you don’t take Trelawney seriously. I thought you Slytherins were supposed to clever.”

“If you paid attention Potter, you’d realize she’s almost always right. She just doesn’t always know how to interpret what she sees.”

When he didn’t buy it, she said, “I could owe you a favor?” He could tell she knew it was weak.

She sighed.

“Fine. Look, I know we haven’t been nice to each other over the years, but this is our chance to bury the hatchet, you know? Wouldn’t be nice to not be at each other’s throats for a change? Why don’t you let me do a reading on you. If you still don’t trust me, I’ll leave you alone.”

She offered her hand. “Swear on my magic I’m not plotting against you.”

Harry hesitated. Trusting one of Malfoy’s friends was usually a bad idea. But even their most convoluted plans didn’t involve homework. And she _had_ just sworn on her magic. And, if he was being honest with himself, he was s little curious.

What’s the worst that could happen, he thought again.

He shook her hand, not liking the resulting smirk on Parkinson’s face.

“Fantastic. _Now_ will you sit down?”

They sat across from each other and Pansy started shuffling her cards. “So what do you want know? Want to know who to bet on for the world cup? Witch caught your eye? Maybe I could look into your past life.”

Harry didn’t have any questions. Well, not any was going to trust to her anyway. Even if she wasn’t planning anything at the moment didn’t mean he needed to give her ammunition either.

“Nothing, really. Can’t you just do, I don’t, something general?”

“Oh, you’re so dull, but fine. One general reading, coming up. Why don’t we see what your summer was like?”

She finished shuffling the deck and dealt out a line of three cards. She flipped the first one over, revealing an upside down foot with wings on the heels, surrounded on all sides by seven swords.

“Seven of Swords, reversed. Deception and repression. People were trying to keep things from you or bring you down and you had to overcome them. That’ll be the trial then.”

She flipped over a second card, this one bearing a bald man with and long black beard and an equally silly mustache.

“The Hierophant, the keeper of knowledge. Someone in your life has all the answers. The question is,” her deep blue eyes fixed his, “were they the ones keeping things from you?”

When Harry didn’t answer, she flipped over the final card. On it was man in pink wearing a crown and holding a curvy sword.

“The King of Swords. All sides got to speak their peace and a wise decision was made. You were let off. Not like they were ever really going to expel the Boy-Who-Lived.”

She looked up from the cards at him again. “Well? What do you think?”

Harry shrugged. She hadn’t made fun of him like he’d been expecting her too. On the contrary, he didn’t remember her ever taking anything this seriously before. But...

“I don’t know. It seems like this could all be stuff you heard before hand.”

“But that’s what the cards mean! I’m not making this up!”

“I didn’t say you were.” He didn’t even think she was, because what would be the point of that? “I don’t think you are. But, I mean, you knew about the trial. What’s to say you’re not filling in the blanks with what you already know?”

“Please, you’re not that interesting, especially now that you’ve started to sound like Granger. And ask her, if you don’t believe me. I’m sure she’s memorized the symbolism.”

Harry got up. “Thanks for the reading, but I don’t think this is going to work out.”

“Whatever.”

He left her sulking as he went back to the castle.

Harry had almost drifted of to sleep when his eyes shot open. Something been nagging at about his meeting with Parkinson and now he knew what. _“If you paid attention Potter, you’d realize she’s almost always right. She just doesn’t always know how to interpret what she sees.”_ Isn’t that what she’d said? What if it wasn’t just true for Trelawney?

Every card she pulled was true for what happened at Grimmauld Place too. He was having things kept from him, even when he deserved to know. The Hierophant must have been Dumbledore. He was the one who always knew what was going on and Parkinson had even said he might not be telling him everything.

The King of Swords was the hardest in the interpret. What wise decision had been made when he met the Order of the Phoenix? Was it their decision to tell him some things? To not tell him everything? To not let him join the Order? There was no way to be sure. What he did know was that her words were truer than she knew.

If only he knew what to do with this information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying a few things new on this one. It's the first time I've written from a guy's POV for awhile, for one. And it's the first multi-chapter story I've posted here.
> 
> I've also decided to make Harry and Pansy a year younger. I normally have them 6th-7th year. But I wanted a lighter story and with a more innocent love story, free from the open war and everything, it seemed to fit better. Fourth year would probably be even better, but I can't make myself believe they'd get together before 5th year without major canon rewrites.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this. More is on the way soon!


	2. The High Inquisitor

It took Harry two days before he decided to talk with the Slytherin girl again and then more time still to force himself to actually go and see her. He was still half-convinced that it was at best coincidence and at worse, Parkinson making things up. But the possibility that there was something to all this nagged at his brain and there was one sure way to find out.

He found her under the same tree and was annoyed that she wasn’t alone. Indeed, he had to wait behind a small line of people all waiting to see Pansy. And not just Slytherins either. He was the only Gryffindor, but there were a couple of Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs there too.

He scowled. He didn’t exactly want to be seen by anyone, though he’d have to debate with himself over whether that was because she was a Slytherin or because she was doing divination. But there was no help for it. He was already there, so he might as well wait. He did his best to look inconspicuous.

He sat down immediately when it was his turn. If Parkinson was surprised to see him, she hid it well.

“Back for more?” she asked, shuffling her deck with practiced ease, the hint of a smile dancing across her face.

“Yeah, well...” He hadn’t really thought of what he was going to say. “Look, I thought about what you said and maybe there is something to it, but I want to test something.”

She stared at him, silently telling him to continue.

“That was about the past. I want to know if you can tell the future.”

He still didn’t really like her smirk. “Of course, I can. How far do you want to see?”

“How far can you go?”

“It depends, but usually within the year.”

“Then can you tell me what will happen in the next month?”

She nodded and dealt out the cards. The first one was the Tower.

“Ooh, that’s a bit not good. That means there’s going to be a sudden unexpected change. You’ll find your world falling apart.”

Harry didn’t think she needed to sound quite to chipper about that, but said dryly, “That could be any year.”

“Potter,” she said, exasperated, “this isn’t going to work if you’re determined to disbelieve. I thought this was an experiment. Just let it play out first, alright?”

“Relax,” she said, when he opened his mouth.

“Sorry,” he said, doing his best to relax.

The next card showed a fist over a stick, wands pointed at it.

“The four of wands, so...” She sounded like she was thinking. “You’re going to find yourself in a battle of wits? Yes, I know that happens every year.”

The flipped over the last card. “Oh, here’s something you can use. The Emperor.”

A man in purple holding the world adorned the card between them.

“That means you should hold your ground. And...set boundaries, maybe? I’m no too sure there.”

Harry stared at her.

“What?” she asked.

“That’s all?” What was the point of all this if it couldn’t tell him anything useful?

“That’s how works.” She put her hands on her hips. “What did you expect, step-by-step instructions. This is divination. It’s an art. You’re going to have do some interpretation on your own.”

A line had formed behind them.

“Now, is there’s nothing else, I have other people to see.” Her voice was haughty. “Goodbye, Potter.”

“Yeah, thanks,” Harry said, getting up and trudging off. Hermione was right. It was a daft subject.

  
“Don’t you get involved!” Hermione whispered urgently to him.*

When they read in the Prophet the day before that Umbridge had be named Hogwart’s Inquisitor, Hermione had ranted and raved and Ron had been looking forward to Umbridge trying to inspect professors like McGonagall or even Snape. Harry had been pensive. Was this what Parkinson meant by sudden, unexpected change? He guessed so. But in the time since then, when Umbridge had inspected their classes, she’d been more annoying than anything else. Hardly his “world falling apart.” But maybe, he thought, maybe that was just the beginning.

And then came Umbridge’s own class. Hermione had gotten into a debate with the old toad and lost points when Hermione outsmarted her.

“Your previous teachers in this subject may have allowed you more license, but as none of them — with the possible exception of Professor Quirrell, who did at least appear to have restricted himself to age-appropriate subjects — would have passed a Ministry inspection —”*

He should listen to Hermione. He should really, really listen.

_You should hold your ground._

He knew he wasn’t going to shut up.

“Yeah, Quirrell was a great teacher. There was just that minor drawback of him having Lord Voldemort sticking out of the back of his head.”*

He earned himself another week’s worth of detention for that move.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The archive warning tag has been corrected. I must have clicked the wrong thing.
> 
> The deck Pansy is using is modeled after the Tarot of the Witches, first developed for the movie Live and Let Die. It uses the images of those cards, but the names of the court cards and the meanings (until later chapters) come from the Starman deck. Not that it matters, but all meanings Pansy has given are possible interpretations of the cards. At no point does she ever lie about what the cards mean.
> 
> "*" Denotes passages that were either lifter directly from The Order of the Phoenix or lightly paraphrased.
> 
> Thank your for reading on!


	3. The DA

Harry had avoided Pansy for nearly a month after, even going so far as to take the long way back from Care of Magical Creatures and take side routes to classrooms if he saw her coming. He told himself it was because she’d been wrong, his scar on the back of his hand proof of that. So far, she hadn’t predicted anything she couldn’t have known in advance. Percy-the git-had known that Umbridge was going to try and take over Hogwarts, so there was no reason she couldn’t have either. True, he didn’t know anything about the Parkinsons, but Pansy was, at least until recently, joined at the hip with Malfoy and his dad practically ran the Ministry.

But part of him, the part of him that couldn’t lie, not even to himself? That part? That part was unnerved by the whole thing. Whether it was how many things she’d gotten right, the thought of anyone, particularly her, knowing so much about him or the idea that something was controlling his destiny, he didn’t know. But he did know he wasn’t in a hurry to repeat the experience.

Besides he had other things on his mind. He was pretty sure Angelina would kill him if he got another detention, but he just couldn’t keep his mouth shut. The situation with Umbridge was getting worse. She’d inspected most of the classes by now, writing notes Harry was sure were designed to get any of the good teachers fired. He own class still consisted of nothing but reading and answering questions out of the textbook. Even Harry, not usually one to worry about his exams, saw Hermione’s point about their O.W.L.s. Not that she didn’t have a solution.

She’d suggested that he teach them Defense Against the Dark Arts. They’d had a row over it, actually. He’d over-reacted, under the stress of everything. Almost by way of an apology, he’d promised to think about it. She’d eventually gotten him to agree to it. He still wasn’t sure though. She had a point, obviously. She almost always did. But he couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of him, of all people, teaching anybody anything.

Lost in thought, he’d been wandering aimlessly through the halls until he found himself in the entrance hall. Now that the Scottish weather was turning, the hall, as it did every year and in bad weather, had become the general common area in lieu of a proper school common ground.

Harry groaned. Pansy Parkinson had set up shop there, because of course she had. And before he could even think about going away quietly. He’d caught her eye and she waved him over. Despite himself though, he walked over to her anyway. Another unnerving thing about the whole thing to add to the list. Her ability to make him come when she called.

She had set up a table and chairs.

“Evening, Potter.” She motioned for Harry to sit down.

“Parkinson.” He gave a polite nod as he sat. “What do you want?”

She pulled out a quill and parchment. “I wanted to follow up with on your reading. You know, for my project.”

“You’re still on about that?”

“Yes, I’m ‘still on about that’. Come on. I did two readings for you, so it’s time to hold up your end.”

He sighed. He supposed that was only fair.

“Alright. Let’s get this over with.

“Great!” She dipped her quill and put it to the parchment. “Would you say the readings were accurate?”

“I gu-” He cut himself off. Despite everything, she hadn’t used this as a way to trick him or make fun of him, so far as he could tell. He owed it to her to do this properly. “Yeah. Yeah, they’ve been pretty spot on.”

“Good, good.” She wrote hurriedly. “We’re they able to help make decisions?”

He thought about it.

“Not really,” he admitted. “Everything you say happens, but it only make sense after the fact.”

She asked him more questions and he answered, but he was only half paying attention. So she wanted people to make decisions, did she? He could ask her about teaching Defense. She’d been right so far. But was it a good idea? He definitely didn’t want it getting back to Umbridge, even if it wasn’t against the rules. Maybe if he kept it vague.

“Potter!” she said, snapping him back to focus.

“Yeah?”

“You’re staring. See something you like?” She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Can I get another reading?”

Pansy feigned concern. “I’m not really sure I should. You know it’s not a good idea to rely too much on prophecy.”

“Come on,” he urged, smirking himself for a change. “You said you wanted to predict my death. Maybe this is your chance?"

Pansy put aside her notes and picked up her deck.

“You’ve got to tell me how it turns out, though.”

“He deal.” He’d think of something to tell her later.

As she shuffled, she asked, “What do you want to know?”

“I have a decision to make, but I’m not sure it’s a good idea. What do your cards think.”

Pansy grinned. “What are you planning this time, Potter?”

“Do I really need to tell you? If you’re really a seer, it shouldn’t matter.”

“It helps. Besides, now I’m curious.”

“Later,” he promised. She pouted.

“You’re no fun. But have it your way.”

She laid out three cards, flipping over the first.

“Strength. Trust yourself.”

She turned over the second. On it was a green, horned figure with black bat wings. The card read The Devil.

“That’s a bad sign in it,” Harry asked.

“Not really. It’s more about come to terms with, how do I say this, your...your inner Slytherin. Embrace your inner trickster.”

Harry nodded. “And the third one?”

Pansy flipped it over.

“The 8 of Pentacles. You’ll help others achieve their best selves.” She stared him hard. “What _are_ you up to, Harry?”

She didn’t seem like she was digging for information. It was almost rhetorical, like she was genuinely curious more than anything else.

“Later,” promised. “Isn’t there anything else you can tell me?”

She picked up a fourth card, holding it up between two fingers and waggling it at him. “Alright. But just because I like you.”

She flipped it between her fingers, revealing a bright crescent.

“The Moon. Beware of enemies.”

Well, that was no surprise. He should probably get that card tattooed to his face so he could see it in the mirror every morning.

“Thanks, Pansy! I mean it.”

He left before she could ask anymore questions.

He walked with Ron and Hermione down the lane towards the Hog’s Head that weekend, feeling brighter than he had in sometime.

“You’re in a good mood,” Hermione said. “Not feeling nervous at all, are you?”

_Trust yourself. You’ll help others achieve their best selves._

“Not really,” he said honestly, with a smile, “No.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we see feelings begin to shift, at least on Harry's side.
> 
> This chapter is also a example of happy accident. As I said earlier, I set during 5th year for a lighter tone and was already writing it when I realized I could connect it to the prophecy with a call forward.
> 
> Again, thank you for reading!


	4. The Quidditch Game

It was with a spring in his step that Harry walked back from Quidditch practice. Where had the time gone this quarter? Between the DA and Quidditch practice-he’d finally learned to control himself in Defense Against the Dark Arts, at least enough to avoid detention and make it _to _practice-it seemed like he woke up one day it was November. Umbridge hadn’t gotten any better, but with the DA coming along enough to impress even Hermione, it was hard to worry too much about her.

He walked back into and smiled. Pansy had large crowd of people waiting to see her. He took his place. Why not? Angelina had let them out early to get some rest before the match with Slytherin the next day so he had to some time to kill. He just had to think of a question.

“Harry!” she said as he sat down. “I’ve been wondering when you’d come to see me. How have you been?”

“Fine. Busy. Quidditch, you know?”

“I’ve been busy, too.” She gestured at the crowd.

“I can tell. Business been good.”

“Pretty good. You can’t win them all, can you? But I get things mostly right.”

She looked at the line behind them and sighed.

“As much I want to just talk, I do have a lot of people to talk to. What can I help you with?”

“Right. I thought I’d find out about the match tomorrow. Unless you’ve been asked that enough.”

“Actually, I haven’t.” She started shuffling. “You think so, though.

“I’m glad you asked,” she said as she laid out the cards. “It’ll be good for my report if I get that right.”

She turned over the first over one and immediately started sulking.

“The World. Gryffindor wins.” She let out a long-suffering sigh. “Parvati’s going to be insufferable. I bet her 5 Galleons we’d win.”

Harry whistled. “Bad luck, there. What about the other cards?”

Pansy flipped over the second and her brow furrowed. Harry leaned over to examine it. A knight who reminded of Sir Cadogan was on it, riding a comically undersized horse.

“What does it mean?”

“It’s the Prince of Swords. It means you should stand up for your friends. Maybe you’ll have to take a bludger or something.”

With a shrug, she flipped over the final card. It was a picture blind folded woman holding a set of scales. It was upside down.

“And this one?” Harry asked. When she didn’t answer, he looked up. Her eyes had gone wide. “Pansy, what’s wrong?”

“Injustice.” He thought he could hear a faint tremble in her voice. “Things will have to be set right.”

She sat up straighter. “Someone’s going to cheat. Probably Gryffindor.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“Oh, Gryffindor is going to cheat? I thought it was Slytherin that did anything to get what they want.”

Pansy grumbled something that sounded suspiciously like “stupid hat.”

“Everyone thinks that, but they just don’t get it. Slytherins love rules. We just prefer to make our own. We might break a law, but we’d never break one of our own.”

Her eyes darted back to the Injustice card. Suddenly, she gathered up her deck and shoved it into her bag.

“I’ve got to go. Sorry, everyone.” She said to the crowd.

“Is everything alright?” Harry asked, standing too and surprised that he actually cared.

“I’m find,” she said, but she didn’t meet his eye as she walked quickly off.

But then she stopped at the end of the hall and turned back.

“Good...good luck tomorrow, Harry.”

It was only at the game that he understood her behavior. Almost immediately after take off, the Slytherins in the stands starting singing “Weasley is Our King”. It was a cruel song, taunting Ron and insulting his family. The professors who were not Snape we’re trying to maintain order, but even if they succeeded it was too late. The song had had its intended effect. Gryffindor was down and down badly.

Harry flew past the Slytherin stands, looking for Parkinson. She wasn’t there.

_So she didn’t even have the guts face him_. She knew it was going to happen. There was no way she hadn’t. She had practically even taunted with it.

He searched desperately for the snitch. He could deal with Parkinson later. Right now he had to end the game before they got too far into the hole. Usually preferring to stay above the pitch and wait, he instead must have zoomed around the stadium a dozen times, hoping to see it.

It was a miracle he spot it at all. He was clear on the other end of the pitch, trying to concentrate over the roar of Luna’s hats and having to duck bludgers. It was on the far side of the stadium, near the Slytherins.

And Malfoy was closer.

But Harry? He was faster. And he so wanted to see the Slytherins faces when they’d won. He dove towards the snitch.

His keen eye hadn’t done very much for him. Malfoy saw him and dove towards the snitch, though whether he saw it too or was just going where Harry was going, he would never know.

Harry was gaining on him, pushing, it seemed to him, his broom harder than he ever had before. He was neck and neck with Malfoy now, their hands outstretched reaching for the gold ball.

Harry’s hand closed around it. They’d won. He was knocked from his broom a few feet off the ground by a bludger, but that didn’t matter. They’d won and he could rub it in all the Slytherin’s faces.

He only just gotten to his feet when Alicia and Katie nearly bowled him over with a hug. Malfoy was walking towards them. Harry grinned. Let him say what he wanted.

Harry skulked outside Umbridge’s office door. He knew what he had to do. Angelina had told him in no uncertain terms that he was to march himself over, grovel and promise her anything he wanted in exchange for lifting his lifetime Quidditch ban. He cringed mentally at her ravings. He had absolutely no idea what the _Alarte Ascendare _spell did, but she’d sworn to “bounce him off the every corridor” with it if he didn’t do everything in his power to get himself back on the team.

Nasty, even on his best days, Malfoy had been in rare form after the match. He’d managed to insult Ron, the Weasley parents, _his_ parents and muggles in general, in the space of about three breaths. Even with their captain warning them not to, Harry and George had ganged up on the prat, giving him the beating somebody should have a long time ago.

In retrospect, he supposed they should have waited until they weren’t in middle of the stadium. Madame Hooch had stopped them and sent them to McGonagall, who was going let them off with a week’s worth of detention, which seem unreasonably harsh until the toad had walked in. Brandishing a brand new decree from Fudge, she’d banned him, George and Fred-who hadn’t even been in the fight, though not for lack of trying-from playing Quidditch.

On top of all that, Parkinson, even in the midst of taunting him, _still _managed to be right.

Harry grimaced. He was going to try and set things right. Not because of her, but because he was at least going to say that he tried. He screwed up his courage and knocked.

Umbridge glared when she saw him, covering it up too late with faux sweet smile.

“Mr. Potter. I was just going to send for you. Come in.”

He followed her in.

“Please sit down, while I make us some tea.”

He did as he was told. “Er, no tea for me, thanks.”

“Oh, I insist.”

She sat down across from him and handed him one the cups of tea she’d brought.

“Drink up.”

Harry set it down instead.

“Pro-”

“Drink.”

_Definitely dodgy_. He made a show of putting the cup to his lips, putting didn't sip.

“Mr. Potter, I’ve had to deal with a lot of owls over you.”

He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.

“It seems a number of School Governors heard about the ban and wrote to tell me how unfair it was. You wouldn’t know how the Governors heard about your ban?”

“No, professor.”

“Are you sure? Have some more tea.”

Harry pretended to drink again.

“You didn’t write them?”

“No, professor,” he said again. He didn’t even know who they were.

“You didn’t have anyone write them for you?”

“No.”

“Hmm.” She glared again, this time not at him, but at his tea. “Well, the Minister and I discussed it and we’ve decided to modify your punishment. You and the Weasley boys are suspended for the next two games.”

Harry couldn’t believe his ears. Two games? They would still be able to play in the final.

“Th-thank you,” he stammered out.

“But,” she continued, “if you break anymore rules, you _will _be banned.”

She dismissed him. Harry didn’t waste any time in leaving.

  
Harry consulted the Marauder’s Map. He’d been trying to catch Pansy alone for a week now. It wasn’t easy. She spent most her free time in the Slytherin Common room and the times she didn’t she was holding court in the entrance hall.

He’d taken to trying to catch her between classes. He’d even almost succeed once, but got waylaid by Colin Creevey and by the time he’d escaped, she was with Daphne Greengrass.

He’d considered owling her, going so far as to starting writing more letters than he could count before throwing them into the fire. Nothing came out right and it wasn’t a good idea to begin with. It would attract too much attention.

It was by sheer luck he caught up to her. Leaving late one night from the DA, he absentmindedly checked the map and spotted her wandering the third floor. Making sure his cloak was secure, he rushed down to find her.

She was walking seemingly aimlessly down the hall when came up behind her, enjoying her shriek when he said, “Parkinson!”

He held up his hands as she whirled around, wand already out. “I just want to talk.”

“Harry?” She calmed down. “What are you doing out?”

“Looking for you. What are you doing out?”

“I just needed to clear my head.

Harry nodded, looking back down on the map. Mrs. Norris was near the second floor staircase. There was no way off telling which floor she was heading for.

“Mrs. Norris might be coming. Is there anywhere we can hide?”

“There’s a broom closet in the 5th corridor if you don’t mind getting a little cozy.”

He looked at the map. The wretched cat was coming up their stairs.

“It’ll have to do. Let’s go.”

Pansy took Harry’s hand and led him, as fast as they could without making too much noise, to the closet.

“Alohamora,” she whispered. They ducked inside. She hadn’t been lying. While they had some room between, it was only just. She was almost pressed against them.

“I hope she doesn’t smell us,” Pansy said. “How did you know she was coming?”

Harry stuffed the map back into his pocket. “Don’t worry about it. Look, I need to ask you something. Did you know?”

At first she didn’t meet his eye. Then, she looked up at him, eyes faintly shimmering.

“I knew,” she admitted. “Look, I’m not proud of it, alright? It was supposed to be funny. But when I realized, it was too late too stop it, wasn’t it? But I had to do something. I couldn’t break my own rules.”

She dug out the Justice card from her robes. Had she been carrying it all this time?

“The school governors?”

Pansy brightened a little. “I might have sent an anonymous owl to a few of them. Just the ones who weren’t in Slytherin. Did it work?”

“Well, we’re suspended for two games, but will be back for the finals.”

Pansy shook her head, smiling again.

“House pride. You’d be surprised how often it’s more powerful than money.” She look up up at him in the eyes, her expression scared, but hopeful. She look like she was deciding what she wanted to say. “So, are we still friends?”

Harry smiled down at her. “Yeah. Yeah, we’re still friends.”

Pansy threw her arms around him, hugging him tight, her head resting on his chest.

“I’m sorry.”

He hugged her back. “It’s alright. Just, you know, just don’t lie to me again.”

“I promise.”

They held each other for awhile, longer than Harry knew.

“We should be getting back.”

Pansy let go and nodded, sighing. “I hope that stupid cat doesn’t catch me.”

Harry grinned. “Don’t worry about that, I’ll get you there.”

He held up the invisibility cloak. With everything, he didn’t think she’d noticed it.

Pansy gasped. “Where did you get one? They’re really rare. Even Draco doesn’t have one.”

“It was gift. Come on, lead the way.” He wrapped the cloak around the two of them, holding it closed around them as Pansy led them down to the dungeons. Wherever Filch, his cat or even Peeves were, they didn’t see them.

They stopped at blank stretch of wall in the dungeons, though Harry new it was the secret entrance to the Slytherin common room, having been their once before.

“Well, this is it,” Pansy said. “Thanks for walking with me.”

She hesitated, then threw her arms around him again. Resting her head on his chest again she said, “I glad we’re alright. Promise you’ll come see me?”

“Swear on my magic.”

He left her, walking back to Gryffindor tower feeling decidedly relieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the Harry/Pansy ship. The world is filled with Bad Boy/Good Girl fics, but there's not nearly enough Good Guy/Bad Girl stories.
> 
> With Pansy, if you want to stick with canon, you've got to figure out her turning point from enemy to friend. I've seen it done a lot of different ways and I've done else where different ways. This my my version for this story.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading!


	5. The Kiss

"Just because you’ve got the emotional range of a teaspoon doesn’t mean we all have,” said Hermione.*

The three of them sat in the common room the night of the last DA meeting of the term. Ron and Hermione had been waiting for him when he’d come back late and confronted him almost immediately. And so he’d told them, all about Cho and the kiss and the mistletoe. And the crying. Especially crying.

His friends were bickering, like they also did, this time over Cho’s feelings, whether Harry did the right thing and Ron’s general lack of character.

The kiss, though. He dreamt about it, of course. He’d fancied Cho for ages. But it wasn’t what he’d expected. It felt good, he guessed, but was it always going to be that awkward? The older students seemed to enjoy snogging well enough. Maybe he did it wrong. Maybe he was just bad at it. Or maybe _she _was. And what if Hermione was right about Cho feeling guilty? Would it be right for him to date her when she didn’t know what she was feeling? And did he really want to be reminded of Cedric every time they were together? Without consciously making a decision, he stood up.

“Where are you going,” Ron asked.

“I’m just going to go for a walk,” he said. “I just need a bit of fresh air.”

“Take your time,” Hermione called after him as he headed for the door. “Just don’t stay out too late.”

“I won’t,” he promised.

He headed for the entrance hall, hoping Pansy was still there. True to his word, he’d made a point of stopping by every so often, but it was usually just to say hi in passing. He was too busy to stop most days, even without Quidditch.

But this time he needed a second opinion. A girl’s opinion. And as much as he loved Hermione, he had an idea that Pansy knew more about relationships than she did.

He was in luck. Not only was she still there, but she was finishing up with her last reading and no one was in line. She smiled warmly as she gave her advice to a 2nd year Hufflepuff over what pet she should ask for for her birthday.

“I was hoping to see you before hols,” she said as he sat down. “How have you been?”

“Oh, you know,” he said. “Same old Hogwarts. How are you?”

“Well, I’m hoping I get my report for Trelawney done over break. Maybe then I can start charging. What do you think? How much do you think people will pay.”

“I don’t know.” He had no idea what a fair price was. “3 sickles?”

“That might be fair,” she agreed. She said again, “I’m really glad you came.”

“Well, actually, I have a question this time. If it’s not too late."

Pansy stretched and yawned. “Never too late for you. What do you want to know?”

“Well, you know Cho Chang, right? She...kissed me tonight. But she was crying too. Hermione says she’s feeling guilty. And, I guess I just want to know if I’m doing the right thing.”

Pansy’s eyes flashed.

“What?” he asked.

“Nothing. You’re just being so boring. Do you know how many questions I get like this?” She grumbled. “But I promised.”

She shuffled her cards and threw down one with a heart between two goblets.

“Love. She does genuinely like you.” Pansy glared at the card, as if it had personally offended her.

"But let's see how it turns out. She flipped over another card, with such ferocity, Harry thought it was going to rip. “Oh. 3 of Swords, reversed? That means fake happiness and causing misery. So you’ll have a lot of baggage to work through.”

She turned over a third card, much more gently. Again upside down, it showed a king blue holding same goblet from earlier.

“The King of Cups reversed. You won’t be able to connect on a deep level. Sorry, but I don’t think it’s going anywhere.” She looked up and saw Harry.

“I am sorry, Harry.” Again, he sounded like she actually meant it.

She started gathering up her things. “I’ve got to go, though. Try to have a happy Christmas.”

She left, leaving Harry more conflicted than before.

It had taken a good deal of arguing on his and the Weasley boys’ part to convince the Order than it was safe for them to go to Diagon Alley for Christmas shopping. They were under intense supervision, more, Harry suspected, than even they realized. But it was good to get out of Grimmauld Place anyway.

The Alley was crowded more than Harry had ever seen, filled with people that, like Harry, had put off their shopping to the last minute. He’d gotten most of it done though. He gotten a broom compassed for Ron, his brothers and Ginny, and a book called _New Theory of Numerology. _He found a rubber duck of muggle rock star for Mrs Weasley and a set of self-crocheting hooks for Mrs. Weasley. Remus got a new cardigan. He gotten chocolates for the rest of the order and book on dragons for Hagrid. Sirius had been the hardest, but, with the help of Hermione, he’d made a copy of the scrapbook Hagrid had given him. All in all, he was pleased with his choices. There was only one gift left to buy.

He walked through Lenore and Cleo’s Portents and Prognostications, looking for something Pansy might like. He’d decided early that he wasn’t get her another Tarot deck. She had one that worked for her and besides, he didn't know what look for in one anyway.

Not that he any idea what to look for in any of it and Lenore and Cleo had no end in the variety of fortune telling tools they offered. The were other decks, not tarot, that Harry thought would have been considerably easier to learn. There were pendulums and palmistry busts, tea leave charts and tiles, ouija boards and even a literal wheel of fortune. On a table off to one side were collection all manner runes, dice and what looked suspiciously to Harry like bone.

But really caught his eye were row upon row of shelves holding seemingly endless array of crystal balls. _Perfect_. Harry wandered through the rows. From the movies he’d managed to see when the Dursley weren’t around and from Trelawney’s class, he’d assumed that all crystal balls were clear glass. But far from that, there were balls of every color imaginable, made of stones Harry had never even heard of.

He eventually settled on a glassy blue one that seemed to have a permanent cloud of smoke inside it. He bought a silver stand of miniature unicorns to go with it. Pleased with himself, he went to find the others.

He wrapped the gift up straight away when they got back to Grimmauld Place.

_Pansy_

_ I don't know if you can use this, but I thought it would look good on your table. I hope you're having a good Hols. See you in a few weeks._

_ Harry_

It had taken him a while to be happy with his note, but keeping it simple felt right.

“Think you can carry this?” he asked Hedwig. She gave an indignant hoot, taking up the package and note with ease. Harry opened the window, letting his owl out and watching her fly off into the distance. He wondered how long she’d be gone. He realized he didn’t know where Pansy lived.

“Harry! Dinner’s ready!” Harry was pulled out of his musings by the voice of Mrs. Weasley. Smiling, he closed the window and walked down the stairs to join the others.

An package was waiting for him when he got back.

_Harry_, the attached note read, _how are your hols? It’s been so boring here. I can’t wait to get back to Hogwarts. Write me soon, so I’ll have something to do!_

_Pansy_

_P.S. You’d better not open this ‘til Christmas!_

Ignoring her, he ripped opened the package to find a small mirror with a second scrap of parchment on it taped to the glass.

_I told you not to open this ‘til Christmas!_

_I hope you like it. It’s a foe glass. It’s supposed to show you when your enemies are near by. It seemed like something you’d need._

_Pansy_

How did she always know, he wondered. That thought in mind, he sat down at Ron’s desk, helping himself to a piece of parchment.

_Pansy,_ he wrote.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So no kiss from Pansy yet, but she's jealous and there's only one more chapter to.
> 
> We're in the endgame now.
> 
> And, as always, thanks for reading!


	6. The Lovers

Harry and Pansy owled each other everyday and usually more than once. The Weasley noticed and the the twins were particularly interested in finding out who he was writing to. Ron asked, but let the matter drop when Harry had evaded the question, though Hermione gave him knowing looks whenever she caught him writing.

He’d learned that she lived in Clitheroe, that she had two sisters and that she loved horses. In turn, Harry told her about life with the Dursley, how he came to the wizarding world and that he wished he could stay year round. Pansy promised to invite him to visit in the summer and to teach him how to ride if he’d teach her how to fly. By the time they waved to each other on the train, he’d almost forgotten they’d ever been enemies.

He found himself visiting her most days, sometimes going through the motions of the reading, sometimes hopping the line to say hi before heading off to wherever he was going. If the time worked out and he caught her as she was leaving, they’d walk together, often on a meandering path, back to the Slytherin dungeons.

If Ron and Hermion noticed, they didn’t say anything. It wasn’t like they had much time to just hang out anyway. Ron was redoubling his efforts at quidditch, determined to prove the Slytherin’s wrong and win the next game. Hermione was beginning her final exam meltdown early this year. And Harry? When he wasn’t training with the DA, he was sneaking out to practice quiddith so he’d be ready for the finals. But over all, life was good. And it was underneath that backdrop that he asked Cho to Hogsmeade for Valentine’s Day.

“Hey, Harry.”

It was a cold day when Harry flopped down in the chair across from Pansy. The high of the Quibbler article being published had begun to wear off and with Umbridge supervising two of his classes, he had to work extra hard to keep out of detention. In Care of Magical Creatures, he’d sneezed and the toad had taken 30 points from Gryffindor.

Care of Magical Creatures. They were still on Thestrals, learning how to care for them in the winter. Harry had slipped in the snow. He was still frozen. And, to top it off, Cho had pushed by him as he walked into the castle.

“I haven’t seen you in awhile.” She hadn’t looked up. She was writing furiously, humming cheerfully as she did.

“Hey.” He skulked and Pansy looked up.

“Aww, why so glum, chum?” Harry glared at her and her stupid smile. “Sorry.”

She waved her wand, drying Harry off. “There. That should help."

“So,” she said, slowly, “I heard you had a bad date.”

Harry grumbled. “So everyone is talking about it, then?”

“No, not everyone. Well,” she admitted, “most of the girls.”

“Does everybody hate me?”

Pansy shrugged. “Eh. Some people think you were a prat. Parvati certainly does. But the Quibbler article helped. And a lot us think Cho didn’t have any business going out when she clearly wasn’t ready.”

“What do you think?”

“Well...I did tell you so.”

Harry sighed. “I bet I never get another date.”

“Oh, please. You had a bad date, you didn’t cheat on her or anything like that.

“Here,” she pulled out her cards. “We girls have a saying. ‘The best way to get over someone is to get with someone else.’ Let me help you find a new girlfriend.”

“No.”

“Oh, come on! You’ve got to let me! My reputation is at stake. People see you with me all the time. What will my clients think if it looks like I can’t help Harry Potter get a date. Please?”

“I don’t want to.”

“Pleeease?” She batted her eye lashes at him. Harry rolled his eyes and sighed again.

“Fine. Fine.” A distinctly Dumbledore-esque flash of victory passed over Pansy’s eyes.

“Excellent. Now,” she shuffled the deck, “the only question is who? Maybe Granger. You can’t tell me she hasn’t tried to catch your eye at least once.”

She turned over a card, the one with man with the ridiculous beard. “Ooh, the Hierophant. There’d be outside influence in your relationship. Weasley, I guess.

“Who else. The Weaslette?” This time the card had a cat trying to save a clown from walking off a cliff. “Hmm? The Fool. Too childish. Well, don’t worry, we’ll find your true love. Hey, maybe you can work things out with Parvati.”

But her card said their relationship had played out. And Lavender’s said she loved drama too much. Susan Bones wouldn’t commit to him and Hannah Abbott would make him do all the work in their relationship. Katie would cheat on him and Angelina would fight with him all the time.

“We might as well try Alicia Spinnet. You know. Finish off the team.” Alicia’s card was the Six of Wands. “Well, you could date her, but she’d see you as a trophy. She’d only date you because you’re Harry Potter.”

Harry thought about the pretty chaser. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t noticed her.

Smirking, he said, “But...I _am_ Harry Potter.”

Pansy stared at him. Harry had to duck her hand when she tried to smack him upside the head.

“I’m sorry, go on.”

Pansy slumped. “We’ll, I don’t really know. Who else do you know? I feel like we’re missing someone."

She rubbed the back of her neck. “Oh. Of course.”

“Who?”

“Me.” Pansy smiled. “Well Harry, I am, in fact, a girl.”

She pulled the top card, then stopped. Their eyes met.

“Are you sure?” she asked. “Once we see it, we can’t unsee it.”

Harry nodded. After all, what could it hurt.

Pansy held the card so only she could see it. Her eyes widened.

“Oh. Oh my.”

“What is it?”

Pansy handed the card to Harry. A man and woman, dark-haired, held each other in an embrace. The woman’s hair wrapped around them as they kissed. It even looked a bit like a snake.

The Lovers, the card was called.

“Well,” Pansy said. She shoved her things into her purse. “I’ll leave that with you. Do brink it back when you’ve decided.”

Harry was left looking between the card and Pansy as she walked away.

“Well?” Pansy looked back at him over her shoulder. She was almost at the doors. “Are you coming or not?”

Pansy cackled as she heard Harry hurry to catch up with her. It was tidy piece of magic, if she did say so herself, cards that could say whatever she wanted. Perfect for pranks, revenge and giving cute boys a clue. They were practically dating anyway, so far as she was concerned. He just needed a little nudge in the right direction. Well, a nudge and proper snog. And she was going to be one to do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so it ends. This is one where I had the ending in mind first (based on a bit from Live and Let Die) and worked backwards. As I think I said before, part of the fun of writing Pansy is that she's always, always up to something.
> 
> Oh, in case you're curious, the first draw (Death) in chapter 1 and the final draws were all ones that she charmed to show the cards she wanted. The cards she drew in chapter 4 with the Quidditch game were definitely not charmed. The rest are up to you.
> 
> Thanks for reading! I hoped you enjoyed it.


End file.
